


Prisoners of War

by Team_Alpha_Wolf_Squadron



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 02:38:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16254983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Team_Alpha_Wolf_Squadron/pseuds/Team_Alpha_Wolf_Squadron
Summary: Just a short piece on Frigga and Loki and how their relationship began.





	Prisoners of War

The first time Frigga clasped eyes on the little blue baby her husband had in his arms she well and truly went off it.

“Are you joking Odin? You can’t seriously be thinking of killing it? It’s a baby,” She snatched the child before a knife could even be proposed. “Where did you find it then? Did you snatch it from some poor dying mother?” Cruel perhaps to say to her husband, but Frigga had been on the other side of Odin’s war once before. 

She knew just how far his cruelty had stretched then, just as she knew what he’d probably been doing now. Had she not Thor to look after she would have been right along with him. As it was, she did have Thor, and since no one but the Queen could apparently look after the little babe, it was up to her to do her ‘duty’. Such a male thing to say. 

“Well?” She demanded. “Just what are you planning?”

“Frigga,” Odin said, his gentle tone not even making a dent in Frigga’s compassion. 

She may have supported Odin in his quest to free Midgard of the Jotun’s but that didn’t mean she was happy with just how long and how far this whole fiasco had spiralled. “Be careful how you speak your next words.”

“Frigga,” Odin said again, firmer this time, his ‘Allfather’ voice. Like that actually worked. “The baby isn’t to be killed. I saved him.”

She laughed, because it was that incredulous to believe. Odin wasn’t a savior. He was a king, and the one thing kings didn’t do were save people. Enslave perhaps, and while Asgard did live on the riches of the lands they conquered they too were still slaves to the Allfather’s whims. Even Frigga was only free to a point. 

Yet Odin held firm in his words. “I saved him,” He insisted. “He was on a rock. I believe Laufey intended for the child to die. He’s a runt.”

“How can you tell?” Frigga asked, looking the boy over anyway. He looked just like any other Jotun baby to her. A newborn most definitely, no more than a day old, which made her heart harden to her husband all the more for it. 

“Just look at him Frigga. He’s too small for their kind. And, since Laufey discarded him, I thought perhaps Asgard could show some mercy. Too many people have died in this war,” He said, chancing coming forward.

She held the baby out of his reach. “Too many people always die in war Odin. And just because he’s small does not mean he is a runt and you know this. What game are you playing Odin?” Because she didn’t believe one minute his story. 

Odin just so happened to ‘find’ this child? No, he knew where this child was. Frigga could feel it, just how she could feel the truth in her subjects, and Laufey’s child? Odin had played this game before. Frigga remembered not so long ago when the lines of Asgard and Vanaheim were not so peaceful. Odin had played a dangerous game there too, seeking Frigga out, placating her with sweet words and sweeter gifts. She loves him, yes, of course she does, but only because she knows him, and she knows that Odin finding this child was nothing but careful planning.

It wasn’t exactly a secret Laufey had been with child while he fought. He had declared defeat only late last night, just as he would have given birth Frigga would wager. She would also wager that this child wasn’t on a ‘rock’ as Odin described it. Laufey had a peace treaty to sign, he had to leave the newborn somewhere. Sickening although it may be, Odin had taken this child for a purpose.

“If you don’t wish to care for him I can have arrangements made,” Odin said, quite done with this conversation now he hadn’t gotten the welcome he wished for.

“You do that and I will take Thor to Vanaheim,” She threatened. If the baby was with her Odin couldn’t do whatever dastardly deed he wished to. “Just like if you tell the people we have Laufey’s son in our palace I will cut your balls off and tell Thor just why his father walks with a limp now. I’m sure it’ll be just as entertaining as the story of your missing eye.” Another thing she hadn’t been happy about, since she, again, only found out about it when it was too late.

“We can’t keep it a secret,” Odin said. Meaning he had planned for the child to act as a sort of whipping boy to the people. Of course he did. It was why he’d married her after all. Yes, the people tolerated her now, but it was only because they had another enemy to focus all their hate on. An enemy that was personified in this tiny little boy in her arms. 

“We can,” She said. “And we will. You wanted him Odin, fine, say hello to your son. If not, then I hope you don’t mind, but you were away so long and our bed was so cold. The men were few and far between but I made do.”

Odin’s face twisted, this definitely not what he’d been wanting when he’d come home with the child. Well, tough. 

“If you need me,” Frigga said, “I’ll be in my chamber organising a wet nurse. The labour was so hard after all, and so sudden. I fear I won’t be up and about for a few weeks. But I’m sure you won’t mind taking on my duties. You are the Allfather.”

She left him, wondering just how she was going to hide the little baby as she made her way through the secret passages to her own rooms. The baby still had blood on him, for all Odin had cleaned him up. She wondered, as she wiped a small patch, whether Laufey had even held his son, or if he’d waited until Jotunheim was safe once more before allowing himself to indulge in the one glimmer of happiness to come out of this war. 

What was he thinking now? She wondered.

She needn’t have worried about the baby. No sooner had she put her hand to his, skin to skin, did he change colour, his cool skin being swapped for a warm pale. He was gorgeous no matter what, of that Frigga could be certain of, but this way at least she wouldn’t have to claim to being raped by a rogue Jotun that managed to slip inside the palace. In fact, she could probably claim he was Odin’s judging by the black hair that was beginning to grow on his head. She missed Odin’s dark hair.

She checked below just in case, knowing Jotun’s were of both sex, and finding that this was still the case no matter what the colour of the poor baby’s skin. Yet Odin had been pretty firm on him being a boy, and the last daughter Odin had he hadn’t known how to handle. It was probably best to raise him as a boy. No doubt Thor would be pleased.

Speaking of, she poked her head out the door, making sure the baby was firmly lying in the middle of the sheets. Casting an illusion to make her harried, pale, sweaty, maybe even a little blood in the room should they look, she caught the eye of the guard at her door, “Please tell my son I won’t be seeing him tonight, and fetch the healer.”

The guard rushed to do just that, barking for the nearest servant to see out Frigga’s wishes before returning to his post. “Is there anything I can do your majesty? I know basic aid.” He was already grabbing his cape, ready to rip and tend to her if she so asked.

“No,” She grinned, “Nothing so urgent. It seems I’ve been with child. The little thing didn’t want to wait for his father to make it up here.”

The shock stayed long enough for a healer to come up, Frigga knowing the next time she poked her head out the whole palace would know a new prince had been born. Joyous news for everyone in this time of triumph. 

Eir made sure the baby was healthy, not commenting at all on his odd parts as she asked what Frigga wished to do about feeding. 

“I don’t think I’ll be capable,” Frigga said, playing the invalid as she lay gently on the bed. “Thor was almost too much, I don’t think I could do it again.” For all her powers it was well known that Frigga had struggled a bit with Thor.

He’d been a menace since he was gifted to them. They had to keep up the pretence there too that Frigga was his mother and, try as she might, Frigga wasn’t capable of feeding him. The healers had given her every potion under the sun to help her along. Yet Frigga’s body wasn’t made for Thor to feed off, so eventually they turned to a wet nurse. Just like they would do again.

Luckily, quite a few women had given birth since the war began. Ten years was a long time to breastfeed, which meant there would be a few with milk enough to help this little one along. 

When everything was done, and Eir declared the baby well, she asked the question that would be on everyone’s minds now the baby was here. “Why did you not tell me you were expecting?”

Frigga waved the question away, playing the martyr. “I didn’t wish to worry the people. Nor you. There were so many others who needed help. It didn’t feel right to tell them when… well, I wasn’t completely sure he would make it.”

“Odin will be pleased,” Eir tried, obviously wondering if it was going to be a legitimate heir.

“He will. I know he was last I saw him.” Which would soothe some other questions that would be sent her way. Everyone knew Frigga and Odin had some not so secret rendezvous during the war. She would go, try to help, and be sent back every time. Never mind that she was the better fighter. 

It would just be twisted that one of those meetings got Frigga with child. Just like, thirty years before, they did the same when Thor was given to them. But at least Thor had been Odin’s. Frigga would just have to hope this child had enough neutral features Frigga or Odin could claim one such as their own.

Eir left after a quick cuddle with the baby, wishing Frigga a good night.

With that out of the way, and all of Asgard knowing there was going to be another baby in the royal household, there wasn’t much left to arrange. The wet nurse would be here within the hour, enough time for Frigga to magic up some of Thor’s old baby clothes and wonder again at just what her husband had been playing at.

“I suppose we’ll never truly know his mind,” She sighed, thumbing the baby’s cheek. “But nevermind. You have me, and I’ll make sure you’re loved enough to make up for what you might have had at home.” If he would have had that at home. For all Frigga knew Odin had been telling the truth. If so, and she still wasn’t convinced, maybe her husband had gone soft after all these years. Whatever the case, she would just have to have faith that the baby would stay looking as he did now, and hope her husband had been right in the runt regard at least. If he was to stay here the rest of his life he may as well not have reason to be ostracised. “Which brings us to the last order of business,” She said, picking the little thing up. “What to name you.”

He didn’t look like a Balder. Nor did he suit any of the hardened names that were circulating the Asgardian court these days. He was too gentle to be given something so harsh. Frigga was stumbling over C names when the wet nurse eventually arrived. 

“Zisa, what a surprise to see you volunteer at this late hour,” Frigga greeted, handing the baby over anyway.

She should have known as soon as Zisa had found out about the baby she would be worming her way into Frigga’s rooms somehow. As the wife of Odin’s right hand she thought she was entitled to almost everything in the palace. She held the most sway among the noble ladies, even more than Frigga, the foreign Vanir that had stole her way into the palace. Rumour had it, Zisa had been vying for the throne before Odin had went and fell in love. Frigga believed it, if only because Zisa had an ambitious streak that had tied her to the second most powerful man in Asgard. She was everything Frigga had hated in the Aesir when she first lay eyes on them. Beautiful, sly and ruthless she never let Frigga forget about her shortcomings, always holding some modicum of respect to Frigga’s face, but behind her back the rumours flew like Odin’s ravens.

“I heard you were having some trouble again with nursing,” Zisa said, coming forward to take the little baby. “Oh he’s lovely. A bit smaller than my Torid but I suppose not everyone’s wombs can feed their babies enough.”

Frigga would have felt offended, had she not been so happily watching the baby. There was something so satisfying about watching a baby Jotun nurse at this Asgardian purist’s breast. Something Frigga would never be able to share, but she would get her enjoyment out of it anyway.

“How was the birth?” Zisa asked when she got no response for her jab. “I hear you did it alone. Brave of you I must say. Any other woman in your position would have been scared stiff.”

“Yes.” Frigga remembered helping some of the women in court give birth. All of them had been petrified to the point they were screaming the walls down yelling for their husbands. “But then, Vainr have always been tougher in certain matters.” Which wasn’t completely untrue. There were only three women Frigga had encountered since coming to Asgard who she’d seen have the want to pick up a sword. Apparently such things were above these women.

“Yes,” Zisa remembered, “I keep forgetting you’re not one of us.” The baby finished, Zisa handing him back. “Well, at least this time you can be on the other side of the celebrations. I hear the feast will be lasting ten days once the funeral preparations are in place.”

“Wonderful,” Frigga said, waving the woman off. 

“I will see you in the morning,” Zisa promised, Frigga having to repress knocking something into her as she waddled out.

Frigga looked down at the baby, “If you throw that milk up I won’t hold it against you.” 

Yet he didn’t, and instead dozed off into a peaceful sleep. Frigga set him down gently in the middle of the bed, wandering out one last time to have arrangements made for another cot in the nursery before joining her little Jotun on the bed.

“I think we’ll come up with a name tomorrow,” She decided, kissing his little cheek gently before cuddling up in her blankets.

The baby was the first to wake. He was hungry and had finally made his first wetting, which was both good news to Frigga. She changed him with little problem, calling on the guard to fetch Zisa if she was so insistent on being the baby’s wet nurse, and waiting at her balcony, watching the sun rise as Zisa no doubt got out of bed.

“If Odin had only made you a girl,” Frigga sighed, wondering if she could just demand as such as several adorable names came to mind. But no, Odin was worse with women than he was with men. It was better not to test Odin’s attempts a second time.

They made it through the morning without the baby throwing up, again, which only resigned Frigga to seeing Zisa more often than she would like. Namely because, as she’d come this morning, she had also brought little Torid with her. The five year old was able to support his neck somewhat, and was adorable to look at Frigga had to admit, but, without Torid being back with Zisa’s other children, that meant, come Frigga leaving her rooms, Zisa was able to accompany her.

“I’m just going to see the nursery,” Frigga said.

“And what better way to see something than with someone. I hear Odin is already seeing to the families of the dead. He’ll be far too busy to see his new son until at least Saturday. A sad thing really, but, you did marry the Allfather.”

Maybe Frigga could magic Zisa into a frog. Or capture her face in a tapestry when they entered the nursery to see that no Odin wasn’t busy right now. In fact, he was directing two servants to place the new crib a bit further into the shadows.

Zisa bowed, Frigga doing nothing of the sort as she navigated around Thor’s empty crib to where her husband was standing. “What a surprise this is Odin,” She made a point not to use his title. “I heard you would be busy until Saturday.”

She could see Odin try so hard not to roll his eyes, well, eye, at her, already knowing just what had her in a mood. “I have underlings for a reason,” He said, and then, surprising her again, reached into the little bundle in her arms to catch one of the baby’s hands. “How is our Loki doing this morning then?”

“Loki?” Frigga asked.

“I er, named him?” Odin said, the ‘on the way back from Jotunheim’ implied. “If you don’t like it-”

“No, it’s, nice.” And unexpected. Maybe Odin really did have only pure intentions in taking little Loki. If he’d named the boy that meant he was attached. If he was here at all instead of seeing to Asgard’s recovery that must mean he was attached. She hadn’t thought of this. Last time it had just been Frigga that had to find a way to make a bond. Thor was of Odin’s blood but not hers, therefore he had no trouble loving his little boy. But this one was both not of their blood. 

“Did he feed well?” Odin asked, sensing he’d made some mend in the day before. 

“Yes, Zisa has offered her services too to help nurse Loki.” So they wouldn’t have to try things like water, or blood like some Asgardians seemed to think Jotun’s drank. Well, they did, but not as children. Blood was just another part of the scarce meat they had to consume. Different, but not monstrous as it had been named.

“Zisa?” Odin asked, like he hadn’t seen Zisa there, and oh, Frigga was definitely rewarding Odin for this later. “Ah, I was wondering why you were here. Are you sure you are up to the task however? I heard Tyr was hoping to spend some time with his young one. You too I’m guessing.”

“Was he?” Sometimes Frigga wondered if Zisa even remembered she had a husband. 

“Yes, and I know how important these first few days back home are. Why don’t we find someone else, let you see to your family. They are what’s important in times like this,” Odin said. 

If Zisa could, she would have fought that statement. However, there was truth to Odin’s words, and Tyr probably was looking for her, so Zisa had no choice but to bow and walk out. 

“Have I earned your forgiveness then?” Odin asked, catching the grin that was no doubt on Frigga’s face.

“No, but you’re definitely on the right path.” The nursery truly was lovely, especially now there were two little ones there instead of one. Speaking of, “Where is my little terror?”

“Thor?” Odin pointed to where the baths were. “I had him made suitably occupied while we moved his little brother in.”

“Did you tell him?” Since it would make Frigga’s life a little easier not having to explain to a three year old he was about to share his parents.

“I tried,” which never meant good things. “He’s a bit confused. He thinks Loki’s either a new toy or a horse.”

“Odin,” Frigga sighed, telling herself she should have known better than thinking her husband could get through to their son. “Tell the servants to fetch the tailors. At least that’s something no one can mishear.”

He nodded, dawdling a bit, his hand still clasped in little Loki’s. “Perhaps I should take the baby while you deal with Thor? You know how rough he can get if he’s curious.”

A fair point, and since Frigga was sure that Odin wouldn’t do something stupid now all of Asgard knew about Loki, like set him out into the woods to starve, she handed him over, her hands already feeling lost as they fell back to her side. She smoothed her dress down as she moved to the bathing chamber, hearing what she hadn’t before through the crack, the little laughter that always made her smile no matter what mood she was in.

“Thor,” She called, warning him before opening the door. 

“Mamma!” She didn’t think Thor knew the meaning of quiet. His normal tone was at least a shout, and his shout as loud as thunder itself. He was just as fast as he was loud too, no amount of telling him the floor was wet and therefore slippery could stop his little feet as he ran as fast as he could to Frigga’s skirts.

He hadn’t bathed, his keeper placating him with little toy horses that were currently making camp along the baths edge. He did look fed however, not fussy in the slightest as Frigga lifted him until he was on level with her.

“What have you been up to then?” She asked, dismissing the girl, she could take care of Thor from here.

“Crusade,” Thor declared, steering his mother as best he could towards his little horses. “We’re fighting. And when I win. Which I will. I’m gonna be a hero.” While he still took deep breaths for every little sentence his vocabulary was getting better Frigga noted. Soon she probably wouldn’t be able to keep him quiet at all as he went on wild tangents of adventures he hoped to have. She couldn’t wait.

“Are you now? Did your father tell you what else you’re going to be?” Well, he is, but it was easier explaining it this way to Thor. Especially if he thought they got him a horse.

Thor thought for a moment, “Brave?”

“No, you’re already brave,” Frigga said, setting him down so he could grab his favourite horse. “You’re going to be a big brother. Do you know what that means?”

“Brother,” Thor tested the word out. “Like the warriors?” Since they too called each other brothers and sisters.

Yet, “Not exactly. Loki, who’s just in there, is going to be your little brother. He’s not to share, just yours alone. Like how your father is yours and so am I. He’s…” She tried to think of a better example. “Do you remember Frey and Freya?”

“Yes,” Thor grinned, probably remembering how much fun he had chasing Frey around the gardens. The two had rather enjoyed their time together last Frey was here.

“Well, you remember how Frey is Freya’s brother? They shared the same parents?” Thor nodded. “Well that’s you and Loki.”

Thor frowned, thinking hard on that. Frigga wondered what kind of questions he would have. Probably something she wouldn’t be able to answer, like when Frigga tried explaining what a cat was and Thor wanted to know just where in the universe they had originated from. Apparently, he accepted the explanation that a cow had licked them into existence but not that cats came from that same place.

“But,” he eventually said, Frigga preparing herself, “I’m not Freya.”

“Well you can be Frey then,” Frigga said simply.

“But Frey’s the boy. I thought Loki was a boy,” Thor said, his logic starting to wind itself up.

“Well both of you can be Frey. But do you understand Thor?” He didn’t look like he did, but Frigga had ran out of explanations. “Why don’t we meet him?”

That perked the boy right up. “Okay.” He stood, brushing himself down, even going to the mirror to check on his hair before coming over and asking, “Okay?”

“You look fine,” She promised, taking the hand he held out to her.

Together they walked back into the nursery where Odin had settled himself on the floor, showing Loki all of the toys that were now his as well. There was a tug as Thor decided who to run to, before common sense won out for once and he continued at the slow pace Frigga had set them. She raised him on her knee, settling down too so Thor could better see Loki.

“Do you understand now Thor?” Odin asked, angling Loki better.

“He’s so tiny,” Thor whispered, and at that Frigga had to share an incredulous look with Odin. Thor never whispered, yet here he was, with his voice at the right volume. 

“Well, he’s just a baby,” Odin said slowly, getting his wits about him. “His name is Loki, here,” he grabbed Thor’s little hand, reaching it over so he could feel Loki’s cheek. “You’re going to have to be gentle with him until he’s a bit older. Just like you are with the other children at court.”

“Okay,” Thor agreed, his fingers staying still as Loki wriggled around to see just what was disturbing him. “Hi Loki.”

Thor would no doubt be forgetting to be gentle with Loki in a couple of weeks. He didn’t have the patience to be slow all the time. But for now Thor was behaving, and so was Odin. Years from now would probably see these things changing, but, for now, everything was alright. It was tolerable, and when it wasn’t Loki would be old enough that Frigga could teach him how to pretend it was. For both their sakes. 

Poor little thing.


End file.
